Scared and Sick
by The Raven and the Rose
Summary: Thunderstorms suck; being sick to the point of being unconscious DURING a thunderstorm sucks even more. Luckily, Todd has Pepito to help him.  PASR


_Running and running and running from something, from someone, from somewhere, trying to get away, trying to get home, trying to go home, trying to get some place familiar, praying, bleeding, talking, tall figures, one with a knife, one with a gun, screaming, crying, hurting, loud people, yelling at something, hating something, someone, somewhere, where, where am I, where have I been, where am I going, anyone, anything, help me, pull from this Hell I've created for myself, help now, help me God, Help me Satan, help me anyone…_

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><p>The door to the home of the Casil family opened, a wind blowing rain and leaves into the unusually clean front room. Outside, on the front step, a dark figure stood, eyes glowing evilly, the horns on its head curling, an aura of death clinging to the figure. Claw-like fingernails were attached to a hand that dripped in blood, the crimson liquid falling onto the stone, staining it.<p>

Thunder boomed and lightening light up the darkened sky as one combat boot covered foot stepped into the home, over the threshold, most likely a messenger of death, pestilence, bad luck, or damnation. Lips parted from fanged teeth as the figure opened their mouth to say…

"Unholy shit, the rain out there is insane!" Pepito Diablo exclaimed as he came into the house of his friend Todd Casil, pulling a wet leaf from his trench coat. Glaring down at his soaked clothes, the wet quickly evaporated from him and from his bag.

"_Mucho mejor_," Pepito murmured, dropping the wet leaf to the floor. Before it even touched the carpet, though, it began to dry to the point where it was just dust that embedded itself into the carpet fibers. Glancing around at the room, he was surprised that Todd hadn't called to him or arrived before him as usual, even though Todd usually appeared to scold Pepito for not being quiet.

"Todd? _Mi amigo, ¿dónde estás?_" Pepito called out, making his way through the front room to the kitchen. Finding everything clean as usual, he moved from there to the TV room, where Todd's mother sat in front of the TV, knocked out, snoring, and holding an orange prescription bottle in her hand. Glancing at the label of the bottle, just out of curiosity, Pepito sneered at her before muttering something in Spanish.

Looking around the extremely clean room (it should be mentioned that Todd has had an extreme case of OCD since the age of eleven), and finding the only thing out of place being Todd's pitiful excuse of a mother sprawled on the armchair and the TV on, the Prince of Darkness moved on to upstairs, not even bothering with Todd's father's study. (To Pepito, all studies were the same with the exception of three: his father's, the Grim Reaper's, and some human's out in Kansas he met once.)

The hallway was clean as ever, the only thing a miss being that none of the lights were on, which caused the small walkway to look five times creepier due to the thunderstorn outside. Stopping in front of the second door on the left, he knocked lightly on the wood, asking, "Todd, you in there? It's me, _tu amigo, el Anticristo_. _¿Puedo vengo?_"

After waiting for a moment or two, he reached down and turned the knob of the door, and walked in. The lights were off, which was odd for his friend because of his irrational fear of the dark (he could remember Todd saying once "They lie when they say that anything that's not there in the light isn't there in the dark!"). Even with the curtains pulled aside from the window, it didn't help the light situation at all due to the buckets of rain falling down outside.

But seeing in the dark was one of the many benefits of being the Antichrist, and his eyes scanned over the whole room, landing finally on the bed, where the covers were pulled over a mass that resembled a young teenage boy. Taking small steps toward the bed, trying not to make too much noise, Pepito cocked his head at the shape under the comforter, before reaching the side of the bed.

Curling one hand around the edge of the thick blanket, he whispered once more, "Todd?"

And with still no answer, he threw back the blanket.

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><p><em>A.N.: Well, what do you think? Huh? Well? I know, not much, but it seemed like PepSquee was dying out, so here's a little something to try to keep it going. Not much in the first chapter, but there will be more, I swear.<em>

_Will update as soon as possible, until then, bye._

_Oh yeah, they're both teenagers, around fifteen or sixteen._

_DISCLAIMER: I don't own JTHM, Squee!, or anything else. They all belong to J.V._


End file.
